The Call of Distant Lands: Asia Part 2

Click Here or on the photographs below for all the images

It was early 2016 and life was laying down roots for chapters yet unwritten. Memories are deeply personal even though seemingly mundane things can tug at the very roots of what is meaningful to us, but by the time my birthday came Kirsten had ensured I’d hold a memory of one the most thoughtful gifts I’ve ever received - a booking for a motorcycle training session in preparation for my trip to Thailand the following week. As I looked out at the starboard wing of the Airbus A380 on approach to Bangkok Suvarnabhumi International, I couldn’t help thinking that as much as the technology I was flying on was impressive, the enormous single flap looked more than a little absurd when compared to the engineered beauty of the triple-slotted system on the Boeing 747 that had mesmerised me some 30 years earlier. It was like comparing the looks of a blobfish to the grace of an eagle. I arrived at the hotel around 5pm, opened my suitcase and smiled at an envelope which had been surreptitiously placed on top of my clothes. Inside, a bear sitting on a suitcase was the calling card which opened out to Kirsten’s words briefing me to make some “bearutiful” memories to be shared on my return. Simple acts of thoughtfulness grow deep roots, and they make for beautiful memories.

I had arranged an itinerary that took in Bangkok, Singapore, Phuket and Chiang Mai, and if my visit to Dhaka three years earlier was the culture shock I wanted to prepare me for finally exploring the promise of the east, then Thailand was where I became comfortable immersing myself into Asian culture as a solo traveller. Now familiar with the ubiquitous tuk tuks and motorbikes which headed in every direction, the hubbub of Bangkok didn’t seem so strange to me anymore, but the impressive detail of Wat Pho and Wat Arun left such a compelling mark upon my visual sensibilities that it occurred to me that I’ve never really travelled anywhere for a holiday as such; I travel because that’s how my natural, curious, free-spirited inner life wants to experience life.

Bangkok, Thailand; sumptuous tiled detail on the exterior of Wat Arun

Life on the Chao Phraya - the main arterial waterway which runs through the centre of Bangkok - is heavily influenced by the brightly coloured long-tail boats which ferry visitors to and from the main tourist stops, but look closer and you’ll see men up to their knees in water, fishing or maintaining their stilted riverside homes as monitor lizards climb out of the waters and bask on the riverside. Just the thought of large, potentially dangerous reptiles moving freely among us is something that our Western orientated sensibilities would look upon with quite some concern, but one of the things that became increasingly obvious on my travels is that Asia is generally a region where Health & Safety is a matter of personal discretion rather than legislation. My introduction to city-dwelling reptiles wasn’t the only novel wildlife experience. Just a few hundred metres from the river is the ever popular Khaosan Road where shops and bars serve hoards of holiday makers, travellers and back-packers, but if you stay long enough over a bottle of Singha you’ll probably be offered fried scorpion from one of the street sellers looking for custom.

Bangkok, Thailand; life on the Chao Phraya

As a destination, Bangkok rapidly became the most visited city in the world as Thailand geared up for the global tourism trends which emerged in the 1990s, and it boasts rich cultural, historical, architectural, artisan and culinary experiences which are readily available to all. The monsoon season adds its own magic when we can get soaked to the skin in a flash storm only for the heat to dry us within 20 minutes, and as major Asian cities go it has all the hustle and bustle we could expect elsewhere but nonetheless manages to remain largely personal. By the time I left for Singapore this vibrant city had left its mark upon me. The juxtaposition of ram-shackled riverside dwellings against the stunning forty-six metre long golden reclining Buddha in Wat Pho seemed out of sorts on one level but perfectly understandable on another, while the centuries old Thai, Khmer and Chinese influenced architecture were a constant source of visual interest to capture through the lens. More than anything, it was the life on the streets which truly brought out the feel of the place and made me consider more deeply that the experiences we have when we travel are really just reflections of the location’s people, both past and present.

Wat Pho, Bangkok, Thailand

As we lifted off from runway 21L at Bangkok’s Don Mueang airport I caught one of the most novel and questionable sights I’ve seen at an airport; a fully operational golf course which sits in between the two parallel runways. A little short of two hours later we descended into SIN with the sun’s rays seeping through the low clouds over Malaysia. It wasn’t long before I had deplaned and gone through customs where the immigration officer stamped a typed notice which had a large, red capitalized warning that read “Death for drug traffickers under Singapore law”. It was a moment that made me think of the two teenage girls, Patricia Cahill & Karyn Smith, who made global headlines in the early 1990s after being given long sentences in Thailand for having a stash of heroin concealed in a biscuit tin they were given by an unidentified man they had met in a night club, and who paid for their flights. It’s said that ignorance is bliss - ironically that would only seem to be the case for those in the know.

Singapore is about the size of New York City and around half the size of Bangkok, which is where most of the comparisons with the US and Thailand end. Defined partly by flawless cleanliness, strict law and order and a noticeably stronger sense of economic well-being than most of Southeast Asia, Singapore is something of an outlier in the region. I have a general aversion to ostentation, probably because it doesn’t represent the vast majority of planet Earth’s population, but although prosperity is evident to all who visit it also has a depth of quiet quality which transcends the usual showy symbols of wealth and power. Even Changi airport is an attraction in its own right with its landside and airside features, ambience and comfort making it a superb long layover airport. Obvious reference points apart, it can be quite easy as a transit passenger to forget we’re in an airport at all. Showers are readily available and we can catch a movie or visit as many of its attractions as take our fancy, and for layovers of more than 5.5 hours there’s even a free 2.5 hour bus tour around the sovereign state from an airside pick up and drop off point. The Sunflower and Butterfly Gardens were must sees for me while the quiet sections with comfortable sleeper chairs make for an overnight experience altogether on a different level to the likes of Heathrow or Gatwick. It is little wonder, then, that SIA is routinely voted the best airport in the world, but its elegance and ambience signpost us towards the discoveries that lie beyond.

Singapore is safe, very safe. Sitting at the tip of the Malay Peninsula, it is separated from Malaysia by the Johor Strait in every sense: geographically, historically, demographically, and politically. The streets are safe at any hour of day or night and given that it has some of the severest punishments for those who break the law, the crime rate is one of the lowest in the world. The Metro system is clean, efficient and affordable, criss-crossing over most of the area with a network of just six, colour coded lines. Going places in Singapore without a car is as relaxed and simple as it could be anywhere in the world, and no trip there should ignore Raffles Hotel. It was here, in the iconic Long Bar of this magnificent example of late 19^th century British Colonial architecture that the Singapore Sling was created, but although traditions and history are clearly evident the stunningly modern, triple towered Marina Bay Sands facilitates superb views over the city, bay, Singapore Strait and the tropical natural habitat in the Gardens By The Bay.

If you decide to stay at the hotel you can entertain such pleasantries as sipping cocktails in the outdoor infinity pool on top of the towers, although you may want to double check the prices first which soon reveal that these experiences are for the more privileged in life. I paid only slightly more for my return flight between London and Bangkok than what a one night stay there would have cost me, but if you want to enjoy something special at the hotel without paying the price then catching the sunset in the public bar is definitely something to be experienced. All it requires is a ride in the super fast elevator up to the 57^th floor, some 200 metres above ground level.

Gardens By The Bay, Singapore; seen from the 57^th floor of the Marina Bay Sands Hotel

As much of an outlier as Singapore is it is nonetheless clearly Asian. I had a superb, cheap meal in the heart of Chinatown in amongst the Chinese community who sat and ate, socialised and played Go - thought to be the oldest board game still being played since its invention, more than 2,500 years ago. Soon afterwards I was drawn to the Sri Mariamman Hindu Temple to enjoy one of my favourite experiences when travelling – listening to traditional World Music being played live and in context. As I walked the streets I saw older buildings which speak to the strong historical presence of France in the area, and when it came to the range of food available then the Indian-Indonesian inspired Singaporean Satay was an absolute pleasure to the palate.

Two day later and with a good haul of images, I flew back to Thailand to spend a few lazy days in the chilled atmosphere of Phuket island, where I would find my motorcycle legs that Kirsten had prepared me for. She suggested a stay in an area where she had spent some time a few years earlier, knowing that it would be a perfect place for a few days of rest and recuperation and a pleasurable contrast to the clinically particular Singapore and frenetic Bangkok. The idyllic beaches, colourful fishing boats and night markets give the location an easy charm, and I didn’t let the chance of deepening the relaxation with a Thai massage pass me by. I travelled up to Kirsten’s favourite restaurant where the memory became very much one of eating a delicious fish dinner under the gaze of the pleading eyes of a local cat. Thai cuisine is always flavourful and I tasted my first stir‑fried morning glory - water spinach – among the banyan trees at a beachside restaurant. While I watched the Andaman Sea roll onto the sands, Kirsten felt impossibly close to me despite the 10,000 kilometres between us. There are some things in life which travel with us in every moment, irrespective of geographical distance.

Bang Tao Beach, Phuket, Thailand

Four leisurely days later, after exploring the idyllic area surrounding Bang Tao Beach on motorbike, I took a late flight to Bangkok’s Don Mueang airport for a one night stopover before my early evening connection to Chiang Mai the following day.

Nestled at the edge of the foothills of the Himalayas in northern Thailand, Chiang Mai’s old walled city testifies to its previous importance as the capital of the Lanna Kingdom, or “Kingdom of a Million Rice Fields”. Ideally situated for exploring  Doi Suthep National Park and the surrounding area by motorbike, tuk tuk or via the network of red Song-Tao trucks, the city itself has a definite laid back feel to it as compared to Bangkok. My usual first activity anywhere new is to go walkabout, so the following morning I donned my Nikon and headed to Wat Chiang Man. I became enthralled by the elephant encircled Stupa, and the Lanna murals and paintings which are as breathtaking artefacts as can be found in any Buddhist temple anywhere in the world. On leaving I met a tuk tuk driver, Daeng, who began negotiations for a day tour of some of the popular areas and tourist attractions in and around the city. Affable and open faced, Daeng’s pleasant disposition brought home to me that for every rip-off merchant we may come across, there are countless people trying to make an honest living. As I boarded the tuk tuk I considered how fortunate I was to be here, a guest in this engaging land.

The temples of the north are equally as inspired as those I had seen in Bangkok, but the gilded architecture and elephants at Wat Phra Singh were really something to be savoured. The importance given to elephants may seem slightly strange to us at first, but these animals hold profound historical and cultural significance across Southeast Asia, stemming from their employment in construction, warfare and royal pageantry. Revered as symbols of strength, prosperity and royalty, elephants speak to the very foundation of the collective people, divine favour and royal legitimacy across the region formerly known as Siam.

Wat Phra Singh, Chiang Mai, Thailand

If we think that the symbols in foreign cultures are strange, then we do well to remember that we are not as distinct or as enlightened as we like to think we are. Every culture casts symbols to express authority, but where these remain connected to divine favour and royal legitimacy in Thailand our capitalist cultures tend to use more modest, secular icons which connect to corporate power and key performance indicators to legitimise invested authority. Even given the differences, the way in which the underlying ideas are propagated through those symbols is the same across all social cultures, and it isn’t uncommon for the symbols themselves to be assimilated into other cultures. Our idiom “White Elephant” came to England in the mid-eighteenth century after Empire builders brought the term home with them and applied it to expensive, useless buildings and monuments. The phrase has its roots in Siamese legend which holds that a white elephant was a sacred creature. Whenever a white elephant was discovered it automatically belonged to the King and it was a very serious offence to neglect it, or to put it to work or ride it. These animals were effectively useless to the owner who still had to ensure safety and upkeep and, as the legend goes, the King of Siam used this fact to enact ruthless conditions on subjects who displeased him, by sending them a white elephant as a special royal gift.

By the time the day was over Daeng had taken me to various craft shops and workshops where I could watch local artisans making fine wares and jewellery, a Silk Village where all stages from harvesting silkworm grubs to the finest silk end products can be seen, and Wat Chedi Luang where dozens of Buddhist monks sat in lines facing several Buddha statues as they meditated. Daeng waited, sometimes taking a coffee and chatting with acquaintances while I entertained my curiosity and photography, but I was keen to understand how her Buddhist ideas and beliefs knit together in her sense of the world. In between stops we carried on an interesting conversation about life in general and about how we recognise that our personal philosophies guide us, and although we knew it was very unlikely that our paths would meet again, we parted very much in friendship.

Daeng, Chiang Mai, Thailand; tour guide and friend for the day

The following day I hired another motorbike and rode off up into the hills to Doi Suthep National Park, stopping off along the way whenever a good vista across the hills presented itself or when I passed something interesting. Some way up I came across the ‘mystical’ Wat Pha Lat shrine and pulled in to the lay-by. Established in 1355 as a resting place for pilgrims on their way up to Wat Phra That, legend has it that the site was chosen after the King’s scared white elephant stopped here while carrying a Buddha relic. Peaceful and remote, two large Singha – Guardian Lions  - stand at the foot of the steps underneath the Lanna Greeting Angels above. Inside, Buddhas look out towards visitors as circular archways guide our attention to the forest beyond.

Lanna Greeting Angels sit over two Singha at the entrance of Wat Pha Lat, Doi Suthep, Thailand

Twenty minutes later I continued my own ‘pilgrimage’ and passed Wat Phra That on my way up into the hills to Doi Pui, a Hmong village where huge butterflies dance their songs of flight and cats sleep on hot tin roofs. I took lunch while cockerels strutted their stuff, groups of children played innocently, and tribal women sewed intricately patterned clothing; hats and bags which would be worn or laid out on stalls for purchase in and around the market square. The Hmong people occupy highland areas right across South East Asia and settle into small, self-sufficient communities which have become more tourist centred as more and more visitors have come into the region. Doi Pui catered for visitors, but it was clearly only taking advantage of the footfall coming off the regular Song-Tao that service the Doi Suthep area rather than defining itself through tourist trade. After whiling a few hours away there and having eaten one of the freshest chicken dinners I’ve had, I headed back downhill to visit the impressive Wat Phra That.

I pulled in across the road from a line of Song-Tao which were parked outside the large bronze Buddha at the top of the first twenty steps from the roadside. As I started to walk up the steps there was no suggestion of the staggering 306 step Nāgas lined stairway beyond them which rise up to the temple. Once climbed, the temple grounds open out into a courtyard where Buddhists leave incense sticks at beautifully sculpted Emerald Buddhas crafted out of single blocks of Jade or Jasper. It’s difficult to not be awestruck by the iconic gold leaf covered Stupa and the elaborate gables and doors which adorn various buildings, the entrance steps of which are often lined with impressive human-serpent Nāgas. A single white elephant watched over resplendent floral displays around the waist high marble balustrades which invited me to look over the whole of Chiang Mai and its airport lying 2,260 feet below. A line of ritual bells and a gong stood silent where a small note to visitors written in elaborate Thai script was translated into English, telling us “Do not pat gong noise”. We can learn a lot about how other languages are structured when we see such translations – how strange it must seem to a Thai speaker when we write “Do not bang the gong”.

Wat Phra Tha, Doi Suthep, Thailand; gold leaf applied over copper sheets makes for an impressive sight

I spent the following day exploring other parts of Chiang Mai before returning the bike, in readiness for my late afternoon flight back to Bangkok the following day. I had the morning free so packed my bags and went down to breakfast where I chatted with the only other person at the guest house, a young French woman who was also on her travels. Travelling alone can often link us up with others who share our passion for self determination over what we would consider to be the restrictive formats of packaged holiday itineraries. Conversations often lead to shared insights and sometimes to pleasant, uncomplicated times in company for a while. Leaning on my transitory friend’s local knowledge, we walked to a road intersection where we could hail a Song-Tao to go on our way to Wat Jedyod together. These covered red trucks have a row of seats on each side for passengers and will take us anywhere we want, so long as the driver is going that way; hail a truck, the driver will ask you where you want to go and, if it suites the current route, (s)he will negotiate a price with you.

I returned to the Guest House about 3 hours later to pick up my luggage and get on my way to the airport for the hour long flight to Bangkok. As we descended on approach to Suvarnabhumi airport I glimpsed a magnificent thunderstorm in the distance, and I was filled with a deep sense of gratitude for the indelible marks that Asia had left upon me and my passport over the last seventeen days.

Thunderstorm captured on final approach to Bangkok Suvarnabhumi

The following day I left for Heathrow via Doha. By the time our Dreamliner touched down in Blighty I was tired, unshaven and more than a little dishevelled, all of which paled into insignificance as I entered the arrivals hall where Kirsten was waiting to greet me.

At that time my life was undergoing some fairly seismic changes and I couldn’t have anticipated that it would be another seven years before I’d set foot in Asia again. When the time came for me to make plans to travel east again, I felt the call of one particular country more than any other when a day spent exploring my childhood home area around Crystal Palace with my daughter lead us to an Asian restaurant that didn’t just pique my interest, it answered my question as to where I should travel next.

In Part 3, the call of Vietnam becomes too strong to ignore, once, twice and for a third time.

Click any photo above for all the images, and if you've enjoyed reading this blog please enjoy some of the other content on the site, which you can access from the Portfolio page and Blog page.

I'd love to read your thoughts in the comments section below or via email from the Contact page.