zackandlisainthailand

[zackandlisainthailand]

Hippy Vibes

Day 4

The vibes in Chaing Mai are distinctly small-town hippy.

For instance: 

A dozen rainbow-colored nylon tubes sway above our hotel entranceway. They swish against each other like muted, meter-long wind chimes. To my eyes, the multicolored tubes have a distinctly Buddhist vibe. And in my mind, Buddhist vibes = hippy.

There are TONS of tiny Wats here. (Over 300, actually. The oldest, Wat Phra That Doi Suthep, was built in 1383).

None of the temples are nearly as large as those in Bangkok, but each has its own charm. (A cluster of imposing, white-faced buddah statues, say, or cushy, wall-to-wall orange carpeting, perfect for kneeling prayer.)

(Wat Chedi Luang. The largest temple in Chang Mai.)

Plus, we’ve seen plenty of bald, orange-robed monks strolling the sidewalks. Sort of an out-of-body experience.

The pace of life in Chaing Mai is also decidedly laid back. Unlike Bangkok, which is slammed with commuters pushing through packed crowds — here, no one’s in a big hurry to get anywhere. Like us, they seem content to stroll along the quiet streets, past tiny golden shrines, gazing at the rolling green mountains in the distance.

Multiple stores sell “Stay Calm and Visit Chaing Mai” t-shirts, or tank tops stamped with smiling, cartoon elephants — an icon of north Thailand. Chaing Mai magnets, little Buddha statues, and plush-elephant keychains are sold everywhere. The same fare you’d expect in any crunchy US vacation town. All the city’s missing are headshops piping a Grateful Dead double disk onto the streets.

Drugs — surprising based on secondhand stories I’ve heard — seem to be pretty frowned upon here. We’ve smelled marijuana maybe once since landing in Thailand, and unlike neighboorhoods like New York City’s St. Marks — where stores are contractually obligated to sell 6-foot-tall skull bongs alongisde AC/DC t-shirts — we’ve yet to see a glass pipe for sale anywhere here. Seems to lead to a more wholesome, less sleezy scene.

The culture train doesn’t only run one way. Touchstones from the US abound here as well.

Lisa and I placed a dollar bet on wether or not locals would know who Cardi B is. (I said no. She said yes.)

She won, no contest.

Not only does every Thai cab driver and tour guide love Cardi, but we hear her duet with Bruno Mars played in restaurants at least once a day. A testament to the power of the American pop culture machine.

Cafes spin tracks from 70s icons like Bob Marley, Jimi Hendrix, and The Beatles, alongside new tracks by Justin Bieber and Maroon Five. Local street musicians cover those songs, usually with varying degrees of success.

All in all, this city has a relaxed, colorful, accessibly spiritual feel to it. Not too dissimilar from woodsy tourist towns I’ve visited in the US — Woodstock, NY and North Hampton, MA come immediately to mind. Which is maybe a little disappointing? Since the city isn’t quite as original as we might have hoped? But I absolutely love those towns, so whatever.

Plus, it’s a real joy to see the place where part of that crunchy vibe I’ve loved since I was a kid (and have often tried and failed to emulate) was born.

(Fun side note: According to Wikipedia, hippie culture was actually born in Germany. (?!) But it DID incorporate a heafty amount of Bhudist philosophy, which partly came from Thailand. So Wikipedia and I are both right.)

(Monks hanging lanterns at Wat Chedi Luang. Felt like Lisa and I had walked into a Wes Anderson movie.)

[zackandlisainthailand]

Thumbs Of Steel

Day 3 (part 2)

Traditional Thai massages hurt. They hurt like the masseuse is angry at me. Like I disrespected their mother in High School and they’ve been nursing a revenge fantasy ever since.

Massage spots litter Thailand. Walk a block in any city in any direction and you’ll likely pass at least one.

An hour-long massage costs about 200 to 600 bhat. That’s roughly $6 on the low end, $18 on the high. Hour-long massages in the states run at least $50, and can range from $100 to $200 if they’re upscale. They are waaaaaaay cheaper here.

Lisa and I decided to try our first full body traditional Thai massage in Chiang Mai at the picturesque Fah Lanna Spa.

Lanna looks like a zen Garden of Eden. It’s all garden paths, jungle plants, wooden bridges over burbling ponds, and massive coi fish.

After we signed up, lisa and I were led upstairs by our masseuses to a quiet, dark-wood room. The masseurs — two women in their 40s or 50s — gestured for us to change into a pair of loose-fitting drab robes. After dressing, we laid face down on a pair of thin mattresses positioned side by side on the floor.

Then the massage started.

—

Legend has it that Thai massage was invented over 2,500 years ago by Shivago Komarpaj, an ancient doctor-to-the-stars, who was personal physician to the Buddha.

Reality is a bit less sensational, but in some ways more interesting.

Historically, Buddhist temples were the place locals visited for all types of healing — medical as well as spiritual. Massage was seen as just one more kind of medicine and was practiced and taught within those temples.

There’s evidence of this at Wat Pho (the temple in Bangkok that houses the enormous reclining buddha). Scrawled on the walls of the Wat are murals depecting Thai massage techniques. The murals date back to the early 1800s.

Because of TTM’s close ties to the buddhist religion, there’s a spiritual sheen surrounding the practice today.

At the start of most massages, the masseuse presses his or her hands together in prayer and bows, giving thanks to Komarpaj — the fabled creator of TTM — for passing this tradition down through generations.

After the bow though, all bets are off.

—

I am a lump of dough and my masseuse, Joy, is the rolling pin.

She rotates my head delicately between her palms. She digs a black wooden stick into the bottoms of my feet, which hurts but leaves a lasting warmth. She yanks each of my arms until my shoulders pop.

Then, she positions her iron thumb on a pressure point near the tendon in my elbow joint and presses, leaving her finger digging into my skin until pain begins to drip down the length of my forearm.

10 seconds pass. The pain continues. I breath. It doesn’t help much.

Laying next to me, Lisa lets out a contented sigh. I wonder if her masseuse isn’t playing fast and loose with her body like it’s a hand-me-down GI-Joe, like mine seems to be.

At some point during the massage I complain about neck pain, thinking Joy will stay away from those areas. Instead, she locks me into a Muay Thai-style hold and presses her metal thumbs into the tendons in my neck. Her fingers feel like ball bearings. I squirm under her grip, fighting the urge to leap away. The pain is so excruciating I think I might scream.

After 30 minutes of soothing, deep muscle rubs, and intensely painful pressure point work, Joy asks me to sit up. I do and she squats behind me, placing her knees under my arm pits. She reaches under my arms, interlaces her fingers behind the back of my head, and whispers, “relax.”

I’m scared, but not about to disobey. I go limp. She begins twisting my torso over her left knee, like I’m a bottle cap she’s trying to pop off a root beer. She eases my right shoulder towards the mat while, at the same time, folds me calmly over her knee.

The embrace is alarmingly intimate, like two wrestlers intertwined seconds before a match. I twist and twist, feeling a warmth growing in my lower back and then suddenly I hear a sharp POP burst from a part of my side I didn’t even know existed and an incredible, rag-doll feeling spreads through my entire body. I laugh out loud, partly from the surprise burst of endorphins, but mostly from the ridiculousness of having a total stranger wring me out like a dish towel. At least get to know me first.

A few more of those twists and pops and the massage is over.

Lisa and I rise, blinking like babies waking from deep slumber. She smiles lazily. “Wow” is all she can say.

A roll my head. The tension in my neck is completely gone. My body feels warm and alive, like I’ve just been through a strenuous yoga class. And, in a real way, we have been.

—

(A sign hanging in the spa, which I loved.)

As amazing as we felt after the massage, after a few more tries at TTM, Lisa and I both decided to stick with foot, hand, and oil massages, which go easier on the tendon pushing/joint pulling and focus more on good ole muscle rubbin’. More what we’re used to.

TTM is an invigorating, sometimes painful, full-body workout. The effects can be amazing, but sometimes it’s nice to just lie on a cushioned table, listen to the muzak of Kenny G, and shut your brain off — especially when you’re on honeymoon.

—

After the massage, we decided to head to Chaing Mai’s Sunday Walking Street, a chain of connected roads that transform into a food and vendor market every Sunday night. The walking street is located in Chaing Mai’s downtown and passes a dozen Wats, some massive, most small. It’s a parade of colorful lights and exotic smells, all in front of towering golden Wat’s housing giant Buddha statues.

Unfortunately, the walking street was insanely packed and miserable. Shoulder to shoulder with thousands of locals and travelers, inching along on cramped streets, it took five minutes to walk a single block.

After a long day of travel and luxurious massage, we’d forgotten to eat. We were both hungry and getting pissed off from moving at a snails pace through throngs of shoppers.

We headed towards Huen Phew, a legendary Thai restaurant. Unfortunately, the wait was an hour for a table. (We also saw an enormous rat scurry into the restaurant while we waited.)

We pushed back into the walking street crowd towards a backup spot called Kaow Tom 1฿, a no-frills open air joint locals love.

After crawling for 15 minutes through the hoard, we made it. The front of the restaurant overlooks the flood of people pushing down walking street. Unsurprisingly, this place was also packed, but packed with Thais. We took it as a good sign and put our names down.

After 10 minutes we got a table, sat, and immediately ordered the khao soi.

Khao soi is the pride of northern Thailand. The dish is made of boiled egg noodles dunked in a spicy, coconut-milk curry, with pickled veggies, chicken or tofu, topped with deep-friend crispy egg noodles.

The dish is unlike anything I’d ever tasted. Sweet and spicy with a strong coconut undercurrent. Tender noodles in curry thick with tangy veggies and tofu. The fried noodles add a savory crunch to the whole mix. Totally unique.

The reason you come to Thailand is to eat dishes like this, and to see happy faces like this when you do.

From hangry to “ahhhh” in khao soi.

[zackandlisainthailand]

Post Tripical Storm Pabuk

Turns out the storm blew over Krabi without much damage, just a lot of steady rain. We were able to catch our normal flight out of the Krabi airport on Saturday afternoon. We’re now safe and sound in Bangkok.

Just a quick update to let everyone know we’re ok. More on the storm later!

(A photo of the weather in Krabi a few hours before our flight. The eye of the storm was well past us by then.)

[zackandlisainthailand]

Tropical Storm Pabuk Update

Due to tropical storm Pabuk blowing into southern Thailand, Lisa and I decided to leave Railay Beach a day early and head to mainland Krabi.

We’re still within the projected path of the storm, but we’re safe, sound, and happy in a beautiful inland villa we booked yesterday.

By the time the weather reaches us, it should be comparatively mild. We’re currently about 2 miles from the shore, and a short drive to the airport.

Right now it’s 1:10 pm on Friday, Jan 4th. The storm is predicted to hit Krabi sometime later today with the worst of it lasting through Saturday. The eastern islands — particularly Koh Samui, Koh Tao, and Koh Phangan — will be hit earlier, and probably the hardest.

Currently, it’s a beautiful day outside. Partly cloudy, light rain on and off. Calm with plenty of sunshine. We’re prepared and hoping for the best.

Updates soon!

[zackandlisainthailand]

Russian Dolls On Motorbike

Day 3 (part 1)

The traffic in Bangkok is insane. Motorcycles everywhere, zigzagging past pickup trucks that have been converted into makeshift trollys. The truck/trolleys are called songthaews (“two rows”), because of the number of benches inside their truck beds. Locals call them rot si daeng though, which translates to “red cars”, on account of their typical color.

Usually, red cars are packed to the brim with passengers. Seat belts are a rarity, and if the truck bed is full, people balance on a rickety metal platform attached to the tail of the truck, which hovers a foot above the road. For saftey, you can lean your back against an iron pole fastened to the roof of the truck, like these guys below.

Over and over, we’ve seen motorcycles driven by grandmothers, or packed with entire families — husband driving, wife seated behind, baby dangling from her arm, while a second child, slightly older, stands squished between the dad and the handle bars. They look like a row of Russian nesting dolls, each behind the other, increasing in height.

(Here’s a photo we snapped yesterday of a three-person family riding a scooter up a mountain. Imagine the husband is holding an additional kid and you’ve got a good idea of what I’m talking about.)

It gives me vertigo just thinking about riding a motorcycle like that.

All in all, Bangkok was exciting, but too much. Too loud and smoggy. Too tall and packed. The city stretches on and on, like if midtown Manhattan had wider streets, a bit more space, and decided to never end. Bangkok is a city that’s replaced charm with concrete. Happy to be moving on.

—

This morning we’re heading to Chiang Mai, a medium-sized city in the northern region of Thailand. (We heard a comparison to Boston on account of its size and comparatively laid-back atmosphere).

Much of Thailand’s modern culture stems from the north. Until the 18th century, northern Thailand was actually a totally separate country known as the Lanna Kingdom.

Due to multiple annexations and conquerings (mostly by Burma), what was once Lanna is today part of Myanmar, Laos, China, and most notably, Thailand. Lanna became an official part of Siam (AKA, Thailand) in 1920, and for the majority of Lanna’s existence, Chaing Mai was its capital.

Excited to see the modern-day echoes of this ancient, semi-Thailand.

—

Our hotel flagged us a taxi at 6:30 am. Driver had a winning smile, spoke next to no English, and drove like a lunatic.

Bangkok highways are equipped with shoulders — a place where drivers in trouble can pull over safely. Only, everyone in Thailand treats these like an extra lane.

Our driver wizzed past bumper-to-bumper traffic, 80% on the shoulder, 20% over the left-most lane. The car’s engine roared and — eyes wide, biting her bottom lip — Lisa gripped my hand.

I peaked at the speedometer. The needle pushed toward 140 kilometers per hour. I checked later. This is about 85 miles per hour. On a crowded morning highway.

***

When I was 14, I took a short road trip with older friends. Both had just turned 16 and recently passed their drivers tests. One of these kids, Josh, I knew well. His friend I’d never met before.

The friend I didn’t know did most of the driving and most of the talking. I sat quietly in the back seat, head poking through the gap between the front two seats, contributing occasional snippets of conversation, trying to sound older that I was.

What monopolized most of my time on that drive though was watching the speedometer, which crept closer to 90 miles per hour. Then to 95. Then briefly over 100.

I white-knuckled my seatbelt, pretended I was totally cool with the rate at which we rocketed past Saturday-afternoon drivers, and thought vaguely to myself, “This might be how I die. Huh.”

The driver of the car went by the nickname, “Skull.”

***

I hadn’t thought about Skull or that car ride in years. But it popped into my mind as Lisa and I, buzzing with sleep deprivation and an unspoken case of “I’m cool with this if you are”, zipped down the highway at Tokyo-drift speed.

But, we made it to the airport in record time, and no one died! Thailand!

If you look closely, you can see our driver’s cracked front window above. Skull would be proud.

—

These are Nok Air flight attendants at Don Mueang International Airport. See if you can guess what color their logo is.

These are pastries in the shape of a bear.

This is Snail White, a popular whitening cream in Thailand made of real snail! The cream is hydrating and, supposedly, makes your skin-tone lighter.

Light skin tone is coveted around Asia, which, I won’t lie, feels a little icky. Snail White is advertised EVERYWHERE in Thailand.

These are beauty products showcasing exclusively asian models. Realized I’ve never — or very rarely — seen that in the states.

And this is a woman achieving a foundational level of nirvana from her bucket of KFC. Turns out Thais love KFC.

This is a handicap-accessible urinal.

And this is the nose of our Nok Air plane, which is shaped like a beak.

This place is weird, like America filtered through a fun house mirror. Most of the touchstones surrounding us are recognizable, but slightly odd.

A KFC where “Kentucky” is replaced by “Koh Phangan.” 7 Elevens that stock delicious pastries, liquor, and groceries instead of cheap staples.

Walking past these stores and through these cities is a mild out-of-body experience. Like dreaming about something familiar.

[zackandlisainthailand]

Spice Grohls

Day 2

6am. Hotel room. I hear what my sleep-deprived mind thinks might be a rooster crowing.

A minute passes. Lisa snores lightly beside me.

Yup, that’s definitely a rooster. What the hell is a rooster doing in the middle of Bangkok?

She rolls over.

“Was that a rooster?”

“Uh huh.”

“I thought it was an alarm clock.”

“... I guess it is, sort of.”

—

Today we’re off to Chatuchak market in the northern outskirts of Bangkok. Chatuchak is the largest market in Thailand and, according to Wikipedia, the largest weekend market in the world. 15,000 vendors and over 200,000 visitors a day. Crazy.

Vendors there sell everything from delicious street food, to locally designed boutique clothing, to illegal animals, to shelves of cheap Bangkok-themed chotchkes. If you can name it, they probably sell it somewhere inside.

Chatachuck is a twisting maze of colorful stalls. Perusing, you feel as if you’ve been swallowed whole by a tiny city. A migratory caravan of merchants that decided to put down roots in Bangkok 200 years ago, and has been slowly expanding from that spot ever since.

The strangest thing about the market however is that a lot of the goods are actually fantastic. You’d think with a space this size that most of the stuff would be complete junk. Instead, a majority of the stalls we passed sold their own locally designed boutiquey clothing brand. Artisanal AF. Their goods would blend in perfectly at any fancy hipster market in Brooklyn.

There’s also a ton of old anime tees and figurines for sale. 15-year-old me would have lost his mind if he saw this wall, unable to make the impossible choice between Voltron, Miyazaki, and the nine thousand other cartoons I’d never heard of.

This however, was the greatest shirts we found by far.

... and this was the face Lisa made when I said I wanted to buy it.

(That’s about three fourths of the way through an eye roll. I know that face well.)

The public men’s room at Chatachuck looks like this. Very space conscious.

You can also buy home goods, like these beautiful lights they sell everywhere:

And of course, if classy tee shirts and home goods aren’t your bag, you can purchase a wooden, lovingly crafted ash tray that looks like this:

Maybe next time.

[zackandlisainthailand]

Our first day in Thailand! Landed at 8am after a full 24 hours of traveling. Two Etihad flights, one from JFK to Abu Dhabi. The second from Abu Dhabi to Bangkok.

Landed, dropped our bags off at the Trinity Silom hotel and hopped on the subway immediately to the massive reclining Buddha statue at Wat Pho (‘Wats’ are Thailand temples. Not sure what Pho means).

This is us riding a definingly loud, 20-foot longboat up the Chao Phraya river on our way to Way Pho. The driver must have been going for a longboat speed record. You can see the wind whipping through my hair.

Wat Pho is filled with these mosaic-covered spires (above), which are stunning. But the real draw is the enormous reclining Buddha (below).

The reclining Buddha statue is absolutely massive. Over 40 meters long. If he stood up, after smashing serenely through the ceiling, he’d be about half the length of a football field.

The statue barely fits in the building where it’s enscased. Staring at it, I feel what a mouse must feel like gazing up at a human who could squash it at any minute. In awe, and insignificant by comparison.

The statue’s feet are covered in these swirling, inlaid mother-of-pearl paterns, depicting the reincarnated lives of the Buddha. Beautiful, tiny details on a statue so massive.

After that, we walked to a rooftop bar to try and catch the sunset. (Didn’t make it, but here’s a shot of the sun sinking over Bangkok).

Then we tried —and failed — to catch a cab on an insanely busy street near the temples. Five cabs swept up, heard where we wanted to go, and sped off... or heard we wanted them to turn their meter on instead of charging us a fixed price double the meter rate, and sped off.

Jet lagged and exhausted, I sat on the curb next to Lisa (wife and honeymoon travel partner), and wracked my brain, trying to figure out an alternative route back to the hotel. Lisa decided to give flagging a taxi a try. First one she waved down said “Sure! Hop in!”

Maybe the drivers didn’t like my Mets hat.

This is Lisa in the cab. (I wasn’t far behind.)

Day 1!